


A Queen Without A Crown

by Book117Worm



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Action & Romance, Akumas, Angst, Background Love Square, Chloe Bourgeois Redemption-Arc, Chloe doesn't handle emotions well, Chloe is forced to learn from her mistakes, Chloè redemption, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Roller Coaster, Emotions, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, It Gets Worse, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, It's all about Chloe, Kwamis - Freeform, Original Character(s), Slow Burn, Sorry kiddos love square is barely in this, Teen Romance, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, eventual angst, i can't tag properly, romance subplot, somewhat light-hearted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-01 12:53:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11486793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Book117Worm/pseuds/Book117Worm
Summary: Chloe Bourgeois is about to be an outcast for the rest of her life and that's the least of her problems. Lately, she's found herself living the life of a comic books superhero, fighting side-by-side with her idol, and living the perfect life that not even her mother could ruin, but everything changes when things don't go exactly how she planned. Pushed through multiple emotional hard-ships, Chloe struggles through the fact that her past does not define her, but there is no escape from it.AKA the redemption fic no one asked for.





	1. Chapter 1: Origins

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so this is being reuploaded from fanfiction.net (@Book117Worm) and Wattpad (@Book_Worm117). The story will take place in Chloe's POV with occasional short switches to third person.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the journey begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is being reuploaded from Wattpad (@Book_Worm117) and fanfiction.net (@Book117Worm). This is my first time posting on Archive of Our Own so sorry if anything's kinda messed up.

* * *

They say that Miraculouses were only for the worthy and maybe they were right. Only the worthy _deserved_ Miraculouses, but that's not how life worked. Sometimes Miraculouses didn't always end up in the right hands, like HawkMoth. But people don't always stay the same.

Chloe Bourgeois was one of these.

* * *

**Chloe Bourgeois's POV**

Look, everything had been perfect until now.

The meager reporters swarmed around me, pushing and shoving each other, shouting at my father who walked behind me. They pushed microphones into our faces that the security guards batted away, bulldozing through them and creating a path for me to the limo. Cameras flashed around, all I could see was the bright lights flickering, and I had to cling to a bodyguard's jacket to be guided. My hand curled tightly around the strap of my large designer bag with my favorite possessions.

"Andre Bourgeois! Mayor Bourgeois!" they cried, "Is it true you lost the long-time battle of custody over your daughter to your former wife?"

I was pissed.

"Chloe Bourgeois, tell me, how do you feel about the divorce?" asked a particularly rude reporter, holding out a recorder to my face.

I snarled, walking around them, still clinging onto the security guard's coat. I screeched, "Uh, Daddy!" I wailed, "Where is Sabrina when you need her?!"

"Not now, my dear," he said, placing his hand on my back gently and pushing me forward quickly.

"-But-!"

The security guard in front of me opened the limo door, holding it open like he should. I quickly ducked inside, Daddy followed after me, and another security guard slammed the door shut. The reporters clammed around the car, pressing their faces against the window. I glared at them, pulling my seat belt across my body. The limo began to move, quickly speeding away from the crowd.

I was _really_ pissed.

"Where are all of my things?!" I shouted.

He smiled wryly at me, you could tell it was forced but I decided to ignore it. "Some of it is in the back of the limo and the movers are taking half of it-"

"-What-?"

"-you can't take all of it, my dear. I'm sorry."

I scoffed, leaning into my seat. I closed my eyes, hands coiling around my handbag, gripping it tightly. My body was trembling, my phone dinged inside my purse. I ignored it.

Three years ago when I was twelve, my mom left and demanded a divorce from my dad. Neither of their attorneys or them would settle for anything aside from what they wanted, the case dragged on for years. And suddenly, my mom won. She had full-custody of me and my father only had visitation rights.

And it wasn't fair.

I haven't seen my mom in three years and she suddenly has the nerve to break into my life?! Uh.

I gritted my teeth, a wave of anger slamming into my chest, my shoulders trembled. I forced myself to look up at the window, scenes of Paris I never cared to look at flew by in a blur.

"Where are we going?" I sneered, turning my head to glare at the mayor. "This isn't anywhere near the wealthy parts of Paris!"

He sighed, "No."

I groaned, sinking into my seat. My phone dinged again. I grabbed it from my bag, turning it on.

 **Sabrina** _One missed call_

 **Sabrina** _One_ _voice_ _mail_

 **Sabrina** _52 Messages_

I unlocked the phone, quickly recalling her, Sabrina answered. "Where were you?!" I hissed bitterly, Daddy glanced over to me.

" _I'm sorry, Chloe!_ " she squeaked, " _I was in the shower and I-_ "

"Uh," I scowled, examining my nails. They were a daisy yellow color that matched well with my outfit. "Rude! That's all you do, Sabrina!" I snapped, "You're so selfish!"

Dad glanced at me once again. He said nothing.

* * *

The limo came to a stop, the driver stepped out of his seat before opening the door for me. I stepped through, gagging at the sight.

It was a small two-story farm house, with white trim and blue exterior. The porch was large, holding rocking chairs, stained glass ornaments hanging from the beams, and wind chimes that sang in the wind. The windows were square with window pots underneath, housing numerous colorful flowers. The house was surrounded by a simple wooden fence. The only thing in sight was green grass and a few other houses in the distance with crops and farm animals. The sky was perfect blue with white clouds dotting it occasionally as the hot and bright sun beat down.

I was suddenly overcome with heat as I stepped out of the cool temperature of the limo. I looked down at my feet, careful to not accidentally step on cow manure and ruin my new shoes.

I scowled, mumbling under my breath. " _Ugh,_ this heat and humidity will ruin my hair!"

The screen door on the front porch of the peasant house swung open, a woman stepped outside. Her eyes widened upon seeing me, her eyes darted between Daddy and I. She rubbed her hands on the dishcloth in her hands, throwing it on her shoulder.

She looked different then I remembered,or maybe I just wasn't used to seeing her like this.

In my memory, she was beautiful, elegant, and wealthy in every sense. Her long blond hair was curled, swept to the side, and falling into luscious curls. Her eyes were covered by gorgeously blue contacts. Her face had little make-up because of her natural beauty, yet she still wore eyeliner, pink blush, and '40s red lipstick. Her smile was dazzling, flashing pearly white teeth at any who looked.

But now she wore jeans, brown boots, and a simple blue blouse. Her blonde hair was cut above her shoulders that fell in slight waves. Her skin was a natural tan, the skin around her eyes was wrinkled from smiling. Her eyes were their natural chestnut brown, and the only sign of makeup was thin lines of eyeliner and pale pink lipstick. She appeared simple, like she had lived a whole life outside of wealth and had no problem with it.

_Nice to know she was happy while she was gone._

"Ms. Bourgeois," said the driver, presenting one suitcase. My head snapped to him, my attention ripped away from the woman. He bowed, tipping his chauffeur hat before scrambling off to his seat.

I scowled at the _one_ piece of luggage, glancing to the mayor who stood next to me.

"The rest of your clothes and personal items will arrive later," he promised.

_I doubt the tiny little house could hold all of my stuff anyways._

Daddy grabbed my suitcase, holding open the gate door for me to walk through. My hand gripped the handle of my purse as I walked on the cobblestones to the 'house'.

I gagged. _I don't belong here. Maybe there is a five star hotel within a mile, because these heels were not designed to walk._

The woman stepped off of the porch, quickly stepping down the steps to meet us.

"Abella," greeted the mayor. He didn't look happy seeing her.

"Andre," she replied in the same tone. Not cold but not greatful either.

"Can we have a minute?"

She wavered, "Yeah." she said, taking the suitcase from his hand. She vanished into the house with my stuff.

"Chloe, my darling," he said, turning to me. He placed his hands on my shoulders and I tried not to swat him away in fear of wrinkling my jacket. "I know this is scary for you-"

_-I don't get scared. I'm Ladybug's best friend-_

"-and you might not understand what's going on-"

_-I'm Chloe Bourgeois. Of course I understand-_

"-but I love you, dear." he whispered, eyes gleaming sadly.

His words were passionate and I wasn't sure how to respond.

I forced a smile even though I despised it. I was being forced into a peasantly home. I couldn't bring half of my stuff. _This is awful in every way possible- what would Adrien think?!_

I curled my lip at the thought.

"Of course, Daddy," I smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Love you."

 _Love you more than_ her. _I do._

"I'll see you in a few weeks, Chloe," he sighed, smiling one last time.

_Why is he smiling?_

He walked off, got into the limo with tearful eyes, and left. My chest ached.

_Why would you leave me?_

I forced myself to turn to the house, crinkling my nose slightly. I walked up the stairs slowly, examining the stained or colored glass as I did so. I stopped at the screen door, unwillingly opening it.

There the woman stood, speechless. Her eyes were wet, her smile was bright and caused the skin around her eyes to wrinkle. "Chloe?"

I breathed out shakily, shoulders trembling. I forced myself to smile- maybe I did or didn't. I wasn't forsureif I was glad to see her, to have her back in my life again. But I also felt hurt that she had left, not even bothering to visit during Christmas.

I felt like my smile was confident and charming, but it was shaky and uneasy. Emotion that didn't belong to me fled into my words. " _Mom_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a fan of redemption arcs and I love the idea of Chloe getting one. Unfortunately, this is a very short chapter, but they will get much longer. Hopefully, I don't end up accidentally cramming in filler into the story because I have most of the plot figured out. Um, I don't really have much to say???? The story will take place in Chloe's POV with temporary switches to third POV. I've never written anything similar to this- yeah, so...- this story is a first. Chloe will get everything she deserves and hopefully, I will finish this because the planned ending wraps things up quite nicely.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe's experiencing a lot of firsts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cringe* I can't write, but here you go.

**Chloe Bourgeois's POV  
**

Abella Rousseau stared at me, taking a step towards me. Her eyes were shocked, watery.

But then I remembered what she had done. She had left _me_. She packed up one day and never came back. She only texted me during holidays and she always called when I was in the middle of a manicure.

She left me, Chloe Bourgeois!

Anger swelled in my chest, I stepped back, snarling. "Don't you dare ruin my jacket!"

I turned around on my heel, grabbed my suitcase, and stomped up the wood staircase. I scowled, looking around the second floor of the house.

 _A peasant house_.

The hallway was white with various pictures hanging from the walls. I recognized some of the people: my aunt, grandfather, Abella, and... me. I glared at the picture of a toddler hanging next to the first door.

I was about five when it was taken. The toddler grinned toothily at the camera, blue eyes sparkling, and beach blond hair pulled to the sides in pigtails. She wore a bright yellow sundress with pink flowers. Her cheeks were squishy and dotted with freckles.

I subconsciously touched my cheeks where my freckles were hidden underneath some makeup.

 _Ladybug pigtails,_ I noted, the image of my bestie burned into mind. Ladybug has blue pigtails tied together with red ribbons.

I scowled at the picture. I remembered when it was taken; on Mother's Day. _Looks like I don't have a mom_ now.

I walked through the hallway, continuing glaring at the pictures on the walls, searching for 'my room'. The door was slightly ajar and I slammed it open, a _bang!_ resonating around the house.

I sneered at the room. _How peasant-like,_ I scowled. _How plain and poor._

The room was the largest on the second floor aside from the hilariously tiny sitting room, but it was half the size of my bathroom at Daddy's hotel. The walls were an ugly and boring plain white. Light shined from a window onto the floor which was the same cheap wood the downstairs floor was made of. A twin size bed was shoved into the far left corner, its sheets were a plain white. A hideously small dresser was near the inappropriately small closet that was not a walk-in closet.

I didn't like the room. It wasn't the _best_ , it was too _plain_ , it wasn't _magnificent_ , and it wasn't _my_ room.

I stepped into the unluxurious room, scowling at its plainness, and slamming the door behind me. My purse on my shoulder was beginning to feel heavy, but I refused to place it on the bed or on top of the dresser.

My lip curled at the thought of the cheaply-bought items touching my gorgeous handbag.

Someone knocked on the door, my head snapped to the door and I scowled upon realizing who it was.

"Chloe?" the gentle and sad voice of Abella _Rousseau_ asked.

"It's locked!" I lied, snapping.

She sighed from the other side of the door. The doorknob jiggled as the door slowly opened. I huffed, turning my back on her, and crossing my arms.

I was upset. My life had been perfectly gorgeous without her! I am best friends with the only worthy hero of Paris, Ladybug. I am childhood friends and on the edge of a breakthrough with Adrien Agreste, teen supermodel and heir to the Agretse empire. I'm in my final year of college and about to enter the best lycee school in France.

I don't want her to be here. I want her to be as far away from me as possible because that's obviously what she's wanted until now.

"Your stuff will be here tomorrow," she said, breathing shakily. "Do you need help unpacking for now?"

"Do you have a butler?"

"No, Chloe," she sighed.

I huffed. I didn't want to unpack my stuff, but I'd rather do it myself then be assisted by her. "No," I scoffed. "Now can you leave now?"

My arms were still crossed over my chest and I could begin to feel them tremble. I couldn't look at her.

The floorboards creaked softly as she walked towards me, "Do you need time alone?" she whispered.

_Yes._

I didn't answer. I could feel her frowning behind me.

Abella sighed, the sound seemed to travel throughout her body. She nodded, walking back to the door. She paused as she was about to close it. "Chloe, you know I love you- right?"

_Why did you leave me then?_

I scoffed, "Of course," I said, forcing myself to turn to her, but refused to make eye contact. I flaunted a smile, flipping my hair over my shoulder. " _Everyone adores me_."

My chest tightened miserably. I turned my head, staring at the wall.

"Dinner's ready whenever you want to eat," she said, closing the door.

* * *

I didn't want to eat that night, but I was starving and I had eaten all of my protein bars in my purse. I forced myself to walk downstairs into another section of the foreign farmhouse.

The kitchen, dinning room, and living room were one large room that took up nearly all of the first floor. Abella wasn't there, but the patio door was slightly ajar.

A clear bowl with pasta inside sat on the counter, with a plate, fork, and a pile of napkins.

I grumbled, scowling that I had to fetch my own food. I stared at the small dining table, crinkling my nose, but pulled a seat out and sat down anyway because it couldn't possibly be filthier than the school's tables.

The pasta was obviously not made from scratch by a professional chef.

"Life is so much easier with paid slaves," I pouted, emotionally exhausted.

* * *

I almost cried when Abella wouldn't let me call a limo to take me to the dirt school that I still attend. I had to ride in the front seat of an old truck for thirty minutes.

Yet again, I was pissed.

"It's not fair!" I sneered, crossing my arms and scowling, making noise for the first time in the ride. I was determined to not talk to her, but I was upset. "I don't want to ride in this- this _thing_!"

"You're welcome to walk," suggested Abella.

I shrieked, I was _not_ walking in these heels! She winced.

"Chloe, please, I'm trying to drive," she pleaded, her eyes flickering to my briefly with an uneasy frown.

"Well," I drawled, mockingly. "Maybe if we crash, this pile of shit will be unsalvageable and you could get a limo, or a Ferrari at the very least."

"That's not how it works, Chloe," scolded Abella. "Now, please," her voice tightened. "Stop complaining."

"I'm not complaining!" I defended, pouting. "I'm giving constructive criticism!"

"Well, stop giving constructive criticism."

I scoffed, turning my head away from her. I scowled, focusing my eyes on the fields and trees we drove by. I stayed away from the door because it probably had peasant germs.

I grumbled, "Only cockroaches could live like this."

_Which would perfectly describe you, but that's not the point._

Abella said nothing.

My scowl deepened, I don't like being ignored.

* * *

I made sure Mother dropped me off at the back of College Francoise Dupont. If anyone saw me get out of _that_ hideous thing, my popularity and respect would die. I am the daughter of the largest city in France and if I'm not at my best...

I wrinkled my noise, forcing myself to touch the door to open it. I swiftly left the 'car', adjusting my purse on my shoulder.

 _Sabrina's not here,_ I scowled.

"Have a good day," smiled Abella. I could feel a soft feeling of happiness spread through me, but I ignored it.

"Bye," I muttered, closing the door.

The truck rattled off just as Sabrina scampered around the corner. "S-s-sorry, Chloe!" she stuttered.

I rolled my eyes. I was angry and distracted.

I threw my purse at her and she stumbled to catch it. "So, um, how are you holding up, Chloe?" she squeaked as I began to walk off.

I froze, my shoulders tensing, and I was suddenly a lot more uncomfortable. Dread began to settle in my stomach.

"Are you ok?"

 _No,_ my mind whimpered. _My life is tearing apart at the seams. I want to go home.  
_

"I'm fine," I mumbled quickly. "Now, let's go greet my Adrikins," I snapped, quickly changing the subject and walking away in search of my friend.

* * *

Adrien wasn't there. He wasn't at school today, he was at a photoshot so he couldn't answer his phone.

The withering feeling in my chest continued to grow. I didn't want to talk about it, but it would be nice if he was here.

But it didn't matter because he wasn't in my art class, neither was Sabrina, so I was stuck here alone. I hid my phone under the table, waiting for a message I hoped would arrive.

"Chloe!" snapped a woman.

I jolted, surprised, and looked up at my art teacher: Mrs. Robinson. A tall, middle-aged, dark-skinned African American woman who decided to quit her job as a penniless artist to become a penniless teacher. Her hair was dark and shoulder-length that fell in waves and her eyes glowed with energy. She had thin eyebrows, large lips, and a consistent love for out of style pencil skirts.

I didn't like her much. Out of all of the teachers in this dump, though, she would be near the top, but only because everyone here is hideous garbage. She was always talking about how amazing the arts are and how important they are to society, but that's not the truth. Economy- money- is. That's what Andre Bourgeois says and he's been successfully elected more than once by society.

"What did I tell you about your phone?" she asked, glaring at me. She held out her hand, lips tightly pursued.

Another thing I don't like about Mrs. Robinson, she never treated me like I'm special. I am special. She doesn't treat me like I'm the daughter of the mayor of Paris. I'm literally the princess of Paris, France!

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "I wasn't listening, but I'm sure it wasn't that important," I mused. "Either way, it wasn't worth my time."

Robinson's lip curled, her eyes continuing to glow angrily. I smirked, fixating my attention on my nails because everyone loves a girl with an attitude.

"Put your phone up, Chloe."

Ms. Bourgeois, actually.

I rolled my eyes in annoyance, shoving my phone into the nearest pocket of my bag.

I looked up at her, "Happy?" I mocked.

She paused, closing her eyes. She inhaled deeply, her chest shaking as she did so. She breathed out, the anger fading slowly from her eyes. "Chloe," she said. "You have been receiving poor marks in my class all semester due to your lack of attention-"

"-If you look online, it says A+-"

"-On my books," she stated firmly, "outside of your father bribing Mr. Damocles into giving you perfect grades, you are failing this class."

I shook my head. You can't fail with an A+.

"Pick up your things, Chloe, and move next to Nathaniel-"

"WHAT?!"

"-Since when was he in this class?!"

The tomato boy jumped up from his seat, his eyes widening in terror, and he began to speak in the loudest voice I've ever heard him talk in- but he never talks so that's not saying much.

"Miss!" he cried, "Please!"

Mrs. Robinson ignored him and turned towards me, "He has been in this class since the beginning of this school year, Chloe." she said, "Now, pack up your things and move."

"You can't make me!"

"With all due respect," shouted Nathaniel, his voice straining, "but who are you punishing here?"

Me. I'm being forced to relocate to sit next to MariTrash's boyfriend.

"Chloe cannot handle sitting by herself," concluded Robinson. The class watched in silence, "And I'm sorry, Nathaniel, but you have the only other empty seat."

I scoffed at Tomato, grabbing my bag and purse, and forcing myself to walk to his desk. I released some of my anger through clicking my eyes hardly on the floor as I walked. Like everyone in the class, Nathaniel had a double desk and most people shared theirs with a partner, but because he didn't have a partner, his stuff was spread across the side he wasn't sitting on and his backpack occupied the chair.

I glared at him and he glared back. Finally, he shoved all of his materials to his side of the desk and removed his backpack from the chair. I sneered at him, sitting down, and scooting the chair as far away as possible.

"As I was saying," said Robinson, directing her attention back to the 'lesson'. "Shading is very important to your artwork. It adds volume, makes your art look 3D, and gives it a more realistic appeal," she stated, walking around the classroom and making weird hand motions. She stopped at her desk and grabbed a handful of printer paper, placing it on the nearest desk. "Rose, can you help pass out papers?"

I groaned, attempting to ignore Tomato's glares and muttering. I ignored the paper that Rose dropped near me and turned to glare at Nathaniel.

I snarled at him, "You think you're unlucky?" I snapped, "I have to sit next Blue Bitch's boyfriend-"

"-We're not dating!" he hissed softly.

I scoffed, "Oh, sorry, Tomato." I scowled, "I was thinking about you losers in your dreams."

He scowled at me, his long red bangs sliding into his eyes. "What's your problem?"

My parents' divorce. My mom. Adrien not being here. Sabrina not understanding. You.

"Like a peasant like you would ever be able to comprehend my problems," I quipped, turning my back fully on him.

"You're just as awful as I remember." he said. "I wouldn't have to remember, though, because you're always like this."

I winced, my heart stinging sharply for some reason.

I was- am- angry. Not only about my mother, but because after something so life-changing happens, I'm forced to move next to someone who has a crush on the most dislike-able person in the universe.

I just… I just need things to go back to the way they used to be.

* * *

**Third Person POV**

"They're outmatched," agreed Wayzz with Master Fu, flying closer to his wielder. "But the world's not ready. Not after what happened to Lila Rossi."

He chuckled, "The world is never ready, my old friend."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {Chloe is very mentally unstable right about now.... Ahhhh. Anyways, just as a disclaimer, I don't agree with Chloe's morals, this is just how I think hers would be in such a bossy, messed up brain :).
> 
> Thanks for reading! All kudos, comments, and such are appreciated. 
> 
> -Book117Worm  
> Ellie}


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where the plot truly begins *cackling*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so pissed off. I've tried to upload this chapter 5 times, but archive was being a bitch and the word counter is thinking this chapter is like 18 fucking characters.

I was miserable after school and I _knew_ it.

I couldn't say the exact reason, the mountain was growing: my 'mother', my father, the divorce, Nathaneal, my credit cards were frozen, and Adrien was still swamped at photoshoots that were preparing for his father's next release.

And I was stuck in this old, ugly, and poor house, forced to unpack my things by _myself_.

I scowled, glaring at the small closet as I hung up a shirt that deserved an extraordinary walk-in closet.

I began to feel grief and I pushed the sadness from my mind and let it be replaced with anger.

 _Why do I have to unpack?_ I grumbled, _It's not_ my _job._

A strand of honey blonde hair fell in my face. Angrily, I swept it behind my ear and screamed, "Uh! My hair!"

Almost immediately, the bedroom door swung open and Abella rushed it. "Chloe!" she said, "What's going on?"

I threw my hands up in frustration, "EVERYTHING!"

She seemed to age five years, "Chloe-"

I sneered at her, turning my back on her. "-You wouldn't understand-!"

"-Let's go get some fresh air-"

I rolled my eyes, "It's not like there's no air inside."

"-Why don't we go shopping?"|

* * *

"You absolute liar!" I hissed, crossing my arms over my chest. I huffed, dragging my feet as I walked behind the shopping cart.

I glared at Abella as she stopped pushing the court to drift off to focus on which sauce she needed.

I stomped my foot, "You said we were going shopping!"

"We are shopping," she said simply, grabbing one off the counter and throwing it into the cart.

She pulled out a folded and wrinkled piece of printer paper from a cheap-looking blue purse. She hummed, unfolding the list and smoothing out the creases on the bar of the cart.

"Let's see," she muttered underneath her breath. "I have spinach, apples, cookies-"

"-MOM!" I snapped.

"-What do you want for lunch at school?" she asked, not bothering to look at me as she fiddled with the pen in her hand and scribbling down occasionally. "PB&J, pastrami, chicken, room-temperature grilled cheese-?"

"-MOTHER!" I screamed, raising my voice higher. A few peasants glanced over at us and a baby began to wail loudly in a nearby aisle.

 _Seriously,_ I scowled deeply. _Who brings a smelly baby into a grocery store?_

Abella rushed over in front of me, hand crumpling the shopping list in her hand as her grip tightened. "Chloe!" she hissed, "Watch your tongue! We're in public-"

"-I _own_ the public," I scoffed.

Fire seemed to dance in her eyes. She held out her hand with the pen. "Phone."

I clutched it in my nails, pressing it against my chest. I shook my head.

"Chloe," she said, grinding her teeth. Her voice scratched as if she were struggling to keep her temper down. "I will not continue putting up with these rude remarks. I understand that what's going on doesn't make anyone happy, but this has gone too far," she stated.

My stomach tightened. I glared at her angrily, my body tense.

"Phone," she demanded.

 _Never challenge authority,_ my father's voice rang in my ears.

I inhaled, shoving the phone in her hand. I scowled, refusing to meet her eyes.

Abella sighed, putting my phone- which definitely cost more than her outfit- in her purse. "You'll get it back when we get home."

I scoffed, my hands gripped my shoulders. "You mean, _your home,_ " my voice cracked.

She inhaled deeply.

I winced.

* * *

I tried to feel little remorse and what I did, I shoved back down and bottled up.

We didn't talk as Abella finished her shopping list and paid for the items. As the cashier bagged them, she finally sighed. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, Chloe," she apologized. She swiped her card on the reader, quickly signing her name, and slowly lowering the stylus pen.

 _You should be_ , I thought, my lip trembling.

I said nothing.

The cashier dropped the plastic bags into the cart. Abella thanked them before we walked out of the automatic door.

The cart rattled as the ground changed from smooth pavement to the ruff parking lot. We walked along the edge of the building, the car parked far away.

I whined, my feet throbbing painfully in my shoes. They were meant for _class_ and _sass_ , not parking lots with cars that needed to be replaced twenty years ago.

Along the side of the peasant grocery store sat a homeless old man on the dirty ground. He appeared to be from Chinese heritage, his hair was gray and streaked with white, and a cardboard sign with the words 'Wisdom for Free. Tips appreciated' was propped on the wall next to him. He was ancient, his skin wrinkly and thin like paper. He wore a hideous red and white flower print Hawaiian shirt and tan capri shorts. And around his wrist was a surprisingly expensive looking bracelet with a carved jade stone and black cord.

My mother stopped pushing the cart, she kneeled down to the man's level.

He smiled, the skin around his face wrinkling further. "Would you like an ounce of wisdom for your day, my dear?"

My eyes widened. His voice was strong, alluding to his age and health.

Abella smiled, "No, thank you," she answered. She shuffled around in her purse, pulling out her wallet. She handed him five euros, her expression sympathetic.

The cart began to roll away and I grabbed it, staring at the homeless man and Abella.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "This is all the cash I have. If there was an ATM-"

"-I do not need your money, ma'am," he said. "One Euro would be fine, except I haven't-"

"-Please," she smiled. "I have more than I would care to have. Money is nothing if you cannot share it."

"Words of experience," his eyes sparkled. "You are a very intelligent woman, my dear," he praised, accepting the money into his hands.

Abella laughed, standing up. "That's not something I hear every day."

"I wonder why," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes, they both turned to look at me. I looked sharply at Abella, snarling, "Can _I_ go now?"

She smiled apologetically at the man. He smiled, "Thank you. There seem to be less and less kind people in the world these days."

"Are you talking about me?" I demanded, sneering.

Abella glanced at me. "I'm sorry," she apologized to the man, "but I really have to go. There's dinner to be made."

Finally, we walked away and found the truck. Grudgingly, I opened the door and got into the passenger seat without helping unload the cart. Abella placed all the groceries in the back seats then escorted the cart away, and got into the car after a million or so years.

"Why would you do that?" I demanded. "He's homeless for a reason. He'll probably use those Euros for drugs. You could've bought donuts with that-"

"-Because, Chloe," she said, "it's the right thing to do."

I scoffed at the ridiculousness of the cliché statement.

* * *

I swung the door open when the car stopped, quickly lowering myself down onto the ground so I could rush up to my 'room' and avoid Abella Roussea as much as possible.

But before I could even get to the door, she yelled after me, "Can you help me unload the groceries, Chloe?"

I groaned, forcing myself to turn around. "No, I have to unpack the boxes," I sneered, turning my back.

"Chloe," she warned.

I huffed, turning around again to see her holding up my phone. "I could buy a new one," I challenged.

"And who's gonna buy it?" she shot back, raising an eyebrow.

I gritted my teeth, stomping back over to the car as I helped take the groceries into the peasant house. Abella put the groceries away then left to water the flowers.

I grumpily walked up the stairs to my room when something caught my eye. In the center of the table in the kitchen was a box that certainly hadn't been there before.

Scoffing, I walked back down the stairs to examine it. The box was a hexagon, the wood a deep red, the lid covered with golden Chinese symbols.

I placed my phone on the table. Curiously, I opened it.

Years later, I'm sure I would laugh at my reaction, but when I had no idea what I was in for, it was absolutely _terrifying_.

An explosion of yellow light burst from the box. I screamed, dropping it immediately.

In horror, I watched as the light warped, twisting into a large bug-like creature. Th-the-the _thing_ was the size of my hand and looked like a huge bee.

I scrambled backwards, my heels caught on something in my hurry and I tripped, falling roughly to the ground. I whimpered, trying to scoot backwards even though it might ruin my pants.

The creature- _the thing_ \- _the whatever it is!-_ stared at me. Its large, pupil-less, navy blue eyes seemed to glow.

My hand clamped down over my mouth to cover my screams. I could feel my nails digging into my cheek, and I grew upset at the thought it ruined my peticure.

It tilted its head curiously, "And who are _you_?"

_Wtf is that thing talking about?! Everyone knows who I am!_

I sobbed, ripping my hand off my cheek briefly to scream, "LADYBUG, HELP ME!"

It swooped down from the air, zipping over to me in a blink of an eye. I cried into my hand, leaning backwards.

This bug and now, my pants are dirty!

Fear grasped my heart, my stomach tightened, and my temples throbbed with the warning of an incoming headache. My stomach churned and a wave of nausea swept over me.

"Please don't cry!" cried the bee, pressing its large body to my cheek. Its little bug arms spreading and engulfing my cheek into a hug.

I screamed, whacking it off. The creature was sent flying backwards, but just as it was about to slam into the wall, it phased right through it.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" I screamed, distressed. "TH-THI-THIS IS ALL JUST AN ILLUSION FROM ALL THE STRESS I'M GOING THROUGH RIGHT NOW!" I shouted. I sobbed, my chest shakily trembling with my rapid breathing, "Yeah, that's it!- WHERE'S DADDY?!"

_I want my father! My awful mother even!_

The bug reappeared again, phasing through the floorboards. It crossed its ugly little arms over its torso. "That was rude," it huffed.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU?!" I demanded, eyes wide. I could feel my shoulders trembling and my hands shaking as I removed them from over my mouth.

"If you lower your voice," it bargained, "I'll tell y-"

"-NO!"

The door swung open and I jumped in paranoia. Abella rushed over to me, kneeling on the ground. The bee flew behind a vase, watching silently.

"What's going on, Chloe?" she asked, her expression full of fear and worry. She touched my shoulder and for once, I'm not sure if I cared that my jacket was wrinkled.

I shook my head. My vision grew watery with tears. I refused to answer. I was still mad at her.

She shook my shoulders, "Chloe?" she bit her lip, eyes wide.

"-Th-ther-there's a b-b-bug!" I stuttered out, "We need bug spray- _bee_ spray-"

"Chloe, it's just a bug," she lied. "It's smaller than you." She pulled me to my feet, dusting my clothes off.

"-MO-"

"Get some rest, Chloe," she said, grabbing my head. She kneeled down, picking up the red box, snapping the lid shut, and handed me my phone. She led me up the stairs and I grumpily followed.

I glanced behind me to see the bee fly out from behind the vase and phase through the wall.

Mom stopped in front of the weak excuse of a bean bag, letting me go, and I plopped down on it. "It's been stressfully lately," she whispered, brushing my loose bangs out of my face. She pressed a kiss to my forehead, "I'm gonna go make dinner. Take a nap, okay?"

I scoffed quietly.

Abella attempted to give me the box, but I shook my head, trying to show that I certainly did not want it.

She raised an eyebrow at my odd behavior, "Well, it's not mine," she promised, setting it on the ground near my feet.

She walked out, softly closing the door behind her. Just as the door clicked the shit, the bee flew out from behind a box, and I yelped, nearly falling off of the beanbag.

"What the hell are you, you giant, creepy ass bug?!" I hissed. "Is this a trick? An illusion? A hologram? Did Marinette set this up?!"

"Wow," the bee said, rolling its eyes, unimpressed. "I've been called worse."

"What are you?" I demanded, "Tell me or I'll call Daddy!"

The creature floated higher in the air, its little wings buzzing behind it. It seemed to raise an eyebrow as it asked, "Aren't you a bit too young to call someone your Daddy?"

I shouted, "WHAT? NO!- That's not what I-!"

The bee exploded into laughter, giggling intensely. "HAha! Oh, that's funny-!"

"Argh!" I snarled, stomping my foot on the floor.

"Ok, ok," the thing laughed, giggling, and attempting to stop its laughter.

I glared.

It grinned after finally gaining its composure. The bee bowed dramatically, "My name is Pollen-"

I scoffed, wrinkling my nose. "Pollen? Because you're a bee?" I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "How unoriginal-"

"-and I am a Kwami."

I blinked, " _A what_?"

"K-W-A-M-I, kwami," it spelled out. The bee flew down to the box, opening to reveal a shiny yellow comb.

"-How ugly-"

The bee made a hurt noise, "My comb is _very_ fashionable!"

I rolled my eyes, "Right."

The creature stuck its black tongue out at me. "Kwamis are attached to ancient magical stones called Miraculouses-"

I blinked, gaping in surprise. "-Miraculouses?" I interrupted, "Like the jewelry Ladybug has?"

"And Chat Noir," added the Kwami. I rolled my eyes at the thought of the mangy alley cat.

"This is a Miraculous?" I asked, unimpressed, grabbing the box. I tilted it and the comb's shiny yellow coat glinted in the light.

"Yes," it answered. "Miracle stones were forged into jewelry to easily disguise and carry them. Miraculouses grant-"

"-Unimaginable power at your fingertips," I concluded, grinning, as I tucked the comb into my hair.

Suddenly, I felt so much more powerful and _alive_.

This is what Daddy must feel ruling over Paris.

Pollen nodded, "Your job is to protect anyone who needs it and aid all those whom need help."

 _Selectively, of course._ I snickered at the thought.

"And HawkMoth?" I asked.

"Fight with Ladybug and Chat Noir to defeat him."

I'll defeat HawkMoth single-handedly, proving I'm the best superhero in existence. Ladybug will _adore_ me and Chat Noir will be so heartbroken over his stupid crush he'll move on from her and adore me too.

I stood up from the beanbag chair, walking over to the full-length mirror in the corner. I scowled at my reflection. My hair was messy, strands of my ponytail were coming out and sticking to my neck. My clothes were wrinkled and dirty. I looked like crap, but a Miraculous in my possession made me look like a _queen._

"Queen Bee," I grinned at the name. "I'll be Queen Bee."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a few things I would like to address: Chloe's attitude, her opinions/beliefs and her father, and a couple things involving Abella.
> 
> Firstly, I'm not really sure how Chloe would react to seeing a Kwami which is my excuse for Chloe's slight OOC-ness.
> 
> Secondly, I do not- in any way- agree with Chloe's current opinions. Right now, she is a cruel, selfish, and clingy person who's beliefs are forged by her father. Her father has been elected mayor twice: he is powerful, rich, and popular. Chloe wants to be exactly like him which is why she follows after his opinions because she thinks he's right. Obviously, Andre has messed his daughter up quite a bit.
> 
> Next, Abella is my OC (so like, please don't steal her) and Chloe's absent mother. Yes, she is flawed. She left and she should've kept in contact, but she didn't. She could react differently to Chloe, she could reach out better to Chloe, but she's trying. This is her daughter who she hasn't talked to in years. She's trying to give her space, comfort her, apologize, and prevent her from being a public nuisance all at the same time.
> 
> Also, if you don't understand, the old man was Master Fu and Abella 'helped' him. The Bee Miraculous was meant for her, but Chloe accidentally intervened and received it instead- AND AHH. I WANTED TO CUT THIS CHAPTER OFF WHEN SHE FOUND THE BOX BUT THE CHAPTER WOULD BE TOO SHORT.
> 
> Thank for reading, commenting, and the kudos!
> 
> -Book117Worm  
> Ellie


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get ugly, but Chloe doesn't seem to care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello :)

Miraculouses are meant for the powerful. The _strong_.

I was _born_ to have a Miraculous. I knew it and so did the universe because now, I have one.

I could be a _god._

Before, the universe used to be on my side, but now, I can control my own fate. I can be remembered, praised, loved, envyed, and so much _more._

I deserved this and no one could tell me other wise.

Not even being driven to school in my mom's piece of crap and being dropped off behind the building could taint my mood.

The back door creaked open, Sabrina stood in the door frame, beaming excitedly at me, showing off her buck teeth in dire need of braces. She quickly scurried down the stairs, clutching the books to her chest so she wouldn't drop them.

"Chloe!" she grinned, stopping in front of me. She fawned, "You look _amazing_ today, Chloe!"

I tilted my head. Anger bubbling in my chest.

She spluttered, fear rising in her eyes. Her eyes widened and she suddenly looked very nervous. "N-n-not tha-that you don't usually look am-amaz-zing, Chloe!" she stuttered, "It's just you look _especially_ perfect today!"

"It's my new comb," I stated, flipping my pony tail over my shoulder.

"It's beautiful, Chloe!" she cried, grinning brightly as she continued showering me in compliments.

Satsified, I turned away from her and began walking towards the few stairs to the back door.

Sabrina rushed in front of me, holding the door open. I stepped inside, holding my purse tightly.

My mouse of a friend trailed behind me as I walked through the halls.

I lifted my head confidently, my heels clicking on the floor loudly as I walked. Students closer associated to peasants glanced to me as I walked passed them, gracing them with my presence.

The confidence was burning in my soul. The power echoing through the halls as my feet touched the ground.

I paused at the top of the stair case to the second floor. I leaned on the railing, watching students play in the court yard below as Sabrina caught up with me.

All these students will soon be praising a new hero, Queen Bee.

With a smirk, I turned on my heel, entering Ms. Bustier's classroom. I sat in my usual seat, placing my purse next to me.

Sabrina placed the books on the desk gently, looking up atmer nervously. "I-um, uh, sorry, Chloe, but um-"

I shooed her off mindlessly, "-Ok, go to the bathroom or whatever."

She nodded and quickly scurried out of the classroom, leaving me alone with no one except that bothersome bug named Pollen.

The kwami shuffled inside my purse which I had grudgingly let her inhabit after about two hours of arguing _._ She burst out of the purse, hovering above it in case she was in need of quick escape.

Pollen glared at me angrily, a shiver rolled down my spine at her horrifying glare that was only amplified by her unhuman eyes.

"You shouldn't treat people like that, Chloe," it stated, crossing its tiny arms over its torso.

Not looking at her, I grabbed one of my textbooks Sabrina had been carrying. "She's my friend," I sneered.

"Really?" challenged Pollen, "I would never have noticed with how you treat her."

"Don't tell me how to live my life!" I snapped. "My mother is enough, I don't need you bossing me around!"

"-The more you treat me badly, Chloe," said Pollen, "the longer I'll with hold your transformation activation."

My head quickly turned to glare at her. I snarled, "If you don't tell me how to transform-"

"-You'll buy it out of me?" she drawled, floating higher. "Or maybe fire me and hire a new Kwami?"

I growled at her, " _Everyone_ is replaceable."

If bees could roll their eyes, I'm sure Pollen just did.

I glanced at the door to make sure no one was standing there because if someone saw me arguing with my pursue, it would be all over the media and I would be a nusiance! Chloe Bourgoeis, crackhead of Paris!

* * *

I stood in front of the staircase, Sabrina on a step or two up the the stairs, as we gossiped.

"Everyone seems to think Ladybug and Chat Noir are dating," said Sabrina.

I rolled my eyes, examining my nails closely to make sure none of them were chipped. "Right," I commented snarkily, "because Chat Noir is so _smooth_ and Ladybug just _adores_ him." I sneered, annoyed.

I could practically hear Sabrina shrinking behind me. "Well, I kinda think they would be a cute couple..."

I rolled my eyes, turning around to face her. I scoffed, flipping my hair over my shoulder, "Of _course_ you would, Sabrina!" I snarled, "Ladybug deserves someone better than that cat."

"Like who?" she asked, blinking at me with large owl-like eyes.

I shrugged, scoffing once more before turning my back to her. "Someone who doesn't think puns belong on a royal throne?" I suggested, "Puns are awful."

"Yes, Chloe," she mumbled quietly. You could hear her fidgeting, "Hey, do you read some of those theories I sent you?"

"Nope."

"Oh," she whispered. "Well, fans are putting together theories and trying to figure out who Ladybug and Chat Noir are."

"Oh, yeah, I saw those," I said. "Apparently, they're American actors who teleport across the Atlantic every three hours to fight an Akuma."

People started theorizing that they were American actors named Laura Marano and Ross Lynch- which is stupid because that doesn't make sense. You know, Pollen may not have told me their identites, but somehow I doubt the chances one of them is a celebrity.

I mean, there's already me.

Speaking of secret identities and Pollen, I want to tell Sabrina, but that poorly-named kwami won't let me. Something about the risks of telling people about your power and your identity!

_Psh!_

The only reason I'm listening to her at this point is because there's a statement you have to say in order to transform, but she won't tell me!

I can't brag about my Miraculous to Sabrina or mock Maritrash with it. Better yet, the -somehow very fashionable- fake Lila. It would be perfect to rub it in her face! I have an _actual_ Miraculous unlike _her_. Ms. Rossi faked her heroism by _buying_ a necklace and then getting _Akumatised_ into a hero who doesn't exist! Please. Volpina? What a fake name! No way there was an actual previous wielder named that.

I hummed, mocking Lila did seem like a good idea. "Have you seen Rossi at school, Sabrina?" I asked.

"She's been skipping school a lot lately."

I laughed, snickering, "Looks like someone can't face the consequences of their actions."

The red-head agreed with me.

I checked my phone for the time, "Lunch is over in five minutes."

Which means three more hours till I'll be free of this Hell and will be able to attempt to coax the transformation out of Pollen.

Sabrina leaned forward near my shoulder. She whispered, "Dupain-Cheng at your left."

My head snapped up to see a certain blue-haired bitch nearing me, no doubt to walk past this set of stairs to go to her next class.

I stuck my foot out as Lil Miss President Marinette walked past me.

Her feet caught on my ankle and she tripped, her books flying everywhere. The blue-haired trash landed on the ground roughly, her elbows catching her fall on the concrete. She winced, sitting up, groaning in pain. She flinched, examining her slightly bruised and bloody elbows.

"Oops!" giggled Sabrina behind me on the staircase. I grinned wickedly, my eyes dancing with maliciousness.

Hoeinette glared up at me, grinding her teeth.

But before she could say a word, her best friend pounced on me.

"WHAT THE FUCK, YOU WITCH!" shouted Alya, shoving her face into mine. Her eyes burned with a fire brighter than the sun. Her expression twisted into a snarl, her body shaking with anger.

Where Sabrina stepped backwards in terror, I stepped forward, lifting my chin confidently.

I grinned at the wannabe reporter, taking an inch forward. "You can't touch me," I smirked.

She sneered, cracking her knuckles, our eyes still connected in a challenge. "Want a bet?" she asked.

_Let's see how well your ass holds up against a superhero._

"Why would you wanna make a bet when you know you'll loose?" I asked, smirking.

She growled, clenching her fists. " _Witch_ ," she hissed.

" _Bitch_ ," I snapped.

Her expression was purely animalistic as she grabbed my shoulder. As cliche as it sounds, everything was in slow motion as she brought her fist back and threw it at my face.

Before it could make contact with my nose, someone pushed me to the side, taking my place.

Silence.

Adrien stood in my place, blocking Alya's petty fist.

"That's enough," he stated in a tone he never used, leaving no room for either of us or the crowd that had gathered. "No one wants to get suspended here."

Alya lowered her fist then quickly turned to help Maritrash up.

"Adrikins!" I shouted, faking innocence, as I squealed, wrapping my arms around his neck in a hug.

He grabbed my arms, pushing them off his neck. I frowned, raising an eyebrow at him.

Adrien turned away from me, facing Barfinette. "Are you okay?" he asked gently.

The poor excuse of a designer smiled nervously, "Um- huh- yep, yeah, totally- WOW!" she blurted, her cheeks glowed red brightly, the redness slowly spreading to her ears.

I faked a gag. _Please, the only thing 'Wow!' about that, Trash Child, is how_ great _you are at keeping your crush a secret._

"Can we talk?" Adrien muttered to me, an edge to his voice from trying to conceal his anger.

"Of course, Adrihoney," I smiled, batting my eyelashes. Ms. Gardening Tool faked a loud gagging noise behind my back.

I ignored her.

The model began to ascend up the stairs and I walked next to him. We walked pass students leaning on the railings of the second floor, joking and laughing. Adrien finally stopped in the art class where the room was deserted except for a few people.

"Seriously, Chloe?" he whispered, frowning. "What was that for?" he demanded, "Why did you trip Marinette?"

I tilted my head, "Because I wanted to."

He look flabbergasted for a second, "Why would you want to? I know you guys hate each other, but -"

"-Because who would stop me?" I asked, brushing a few fallen strands of hair out of my face.

"-Chloe-"

"-Why do you care?" I demanded, sneering, crossing my arms over my chest. I could feel Pollen shift in my purse on my shoulder.

My heart pricked a bit. I was tempted to say, " _Clumsy Nut likes you too_!" but I was 90% sure he liked Ladybug and I was starting to think they slipped away during Akuma attacks to make out.

"Because I'm her friend," he said, "-and yours!"

My stomach twisted, "That last part sounded kinda tacked on."

I walked closer to him, studying him closely. I was glad Adrien had changed since he came to college- he became braver and more out there and it was the perfect thing for him to get over his mother's disappearance- but I was also disappointed. The Adrien I knew was shy, he liked anime, and he was loved. But Adrien was bolder now, he just... wasn't always him...

"Why do I even bother calling you 'Adrikins' or 'Adrihoney'?" I asked, the knot in my stomach tightened further.

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "That's just what you've always called me...-"

"-When we were five," I stated, eyes steely and hard, "and friends."

"-Chloe-"

"-You're never around anymore!" I shouted, the few people in the class turning around to face me. "You're always modeling, fencing, at Chinese lessons- yes, I get that!- your schedule is always busy- and you're always sneaking off!- and when you do actually have free time, you refuse to even look me way, pay attention or hang out with me-!"

"-Chloe-!"

I had been in denial for weeks, but for some reason, physcology, the Miraculous seemed to make everything so much clearer.

"-Are we even friends?" I snapped, "Because, sometimes, it surely doesn't feel like it!"

"-Chloe, calm down!" he pleaded, "You might attract an Akuma!"

"Face it, _Adrien_ ," I spat, leaning into his face. "You weren't there for _me_! You aren't there for _me_! You don't pay enough attention to _me_!" I shouted, " _ME_!"

All around us there was only silence.

I stood in front of my childhood friend." _I_ am _better_ than _you_ in _every single way_ ," I whispered, hurt flickered briefly in his eyes.

My heart pounded in my chest, Pollen hit me in the side in my purse, but I ignored her. My head barely registered the mistakes I was making, the arrogance was surging through me too strongly.

"I don't need you," I stated, lifting my head high.

Miraculous holders don't need anyone. They were chosen to be great. They don't need others to hold them down.

"I don't need anyone."

The shrill bell burst into life, ringing loudly, and echoing throughout the halls. Without another word, I stormed out of the classroom. Sabrina- who was waiting outside- jumped and scrambled to keep up with me.

My heart ached and I could feel tears prick my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

I don't need Adrien Agreste.

I don't need Ladybug or Chat Noir or Pollen to become the hero who I know I'm destined to become.

I don't need anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {I hope this wasn't extremely choppy or OOC? The point is, the prospect of having a Miraculous has seriously gone to Chloe's head. Maybe she doesn't mean everything she's said, but she has let her arrogance grow worse. And one thing I've noticed in stories is the main character's POV is always morally correct, but that's not the case with Chloe, so she's gonna be wrong... a lot.
> 
> Thanks for commenting, favoring, and following! :)
> 
> -Book117Worm  
> Ellie}


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {A/N: This chapter is so terrible it makes me wanna cry.}

Even though it had been hours since I 'broke up' with Adrien, I could still feel anger bubbling within me. The memories put a bitter taste in my mouth and a heavy weight on my shoulders.

But I regret nothing. Honestly, how did Adrien expect me to react after he spent so long pretending I didn't exist?

 _He couldn't expect us to continue being friends_ , I thought to myself in a mutter, glaring down at my feet as I walked, barely paying attention to where I was walking.

I shoved the library door open, not allowing Sabrina to hold it open for me.

Even though school was over, they kept the library open till 5:00pm for students who get picked up late and want to work on homework.

I strided over to an empty table, quickly sitting down. I could feel my purse moving on my shoulder. I was sure Pollen was waiting for me to be alone to scold me.

Sabrina sat across from me, gently placing down her handful of books. Meanwhile, a group next to us muttered to each other, glancing to me non-subtly before they all got up and walked to the other side of the library.

I scowled. I wasn't surprised the news of the fights had reached nearly everyone by now, but I was pissed off- they didn't know the whole story! They're probably hearing only Maribitch's side of the story! I'm sure she twisted it too something that favored her! I bet she didn't mention what she did. If it wasn't her, I bet it was her loyal puppy admirer, Nathanael.

I snickered under my breath.

 _Poor, poor Nathanael_ , I thought. _Mario-nette is playing both- him and Adrien- like a fiddle!_

I laughed quietly to myself.

I glanced towards the group that had so rudely not realized what a gift my presence is. I caught the eye of a girl I barely recognized.

Mireille Caquet.

A peasant in my grade level who had a striking resemblance to a certain Pastry Princess, but that just might be the hair. She was average height with short, shiny black hair and brown eyes. She always wore tights and sweaters (even if it's 35+ degrees Celsius outside). She was timid, sweet-hearted according to majority of the school, intelligent, and the winner of the KIDZ+ Weather Girl Challenge.

She stared at me nervously and I glared at her. She quickly turned away and scurried off. I rolled my eyes.

"Hey, Chloe," called Sabrina, snapping me out of my thoughts. I turned to her, scowling slightly. She was swamped in a pile of science textbooks, worksheets, papers, and pencils. Her phone was ringing in her hand.

I waved her away, "Go," I stated my approval simply. With that, Sabrina ran out of the library and I was left to myself. I was alone in this part of the library.

In an instant, Pollen zoomed out of my bag looking very cross. Her insect arms were crossed angrily over her torso and her creepy blue eyes burned with enough anger to start a wildfire.

"What?" I snapped the knot in my stomach tightened, still feeling sour about lunch.

The Kwami shook her head at me. "You shouldn't have done that, Chloe."

"Done what?" I scowled, looking away.

"Where do I begin?" drawled the mythical creature, "Tripping that girl, picking a fight with that other girl-"

"-HEY! She tried to punch me-!"

"-and arguing with that blond," it concluded.

My scowl grew deeper, annoyance twinged in me. "He's not that great," I muttered, snarling. "He deserved it."

Pollen looked at me like she didn't believe me.

"Just tell me how to transform," I said, fixing my glare on the Kwami. "You can't keep it from me forever!"

"Yes, I can." drawled Pollen, "I'm immortal."

"I'm not!"

"My point exactly."

"You're Miraculous is mine," I stated, growling. "Tell me how to transform- NOW!" I demanded.

If Kwamis could raise their eyebrows unimpressed, Pollen definitely did. "This is a library."

I glared at her.

"I can't transform you, Chloe," stated the bee flatly.

I screeched loudly, Pollen flew behind me, as a librarian appeared out of nowhere, pressing her index finger to her lips, hushing at me. She disappeared into a shelf of books and Pollen flew back in front of me.

"I can't transform you," repeated Pollen.

"Can't, won't, or-?"

"-I can't transform you, Chloe."

I sneered, "And why's that?"

I began to feel panic begin to bubble in my stomach. If Pollen can't transform me, I can't prove to the world I have a Miraculous!

"I need food," stated the Kwami simply.

I blinked, leering backwards. "What?"

"I've been asleep in the Bee Comb for years," explained Pollen. "After all those years, I need food to transform you. I don't have the energy."

I was about to screech again, but then I remembered it would look like I was being upset at thin air. I leaned in towards Pollen, hissing venomously. "Are you kidding me?" I snapped, whispering harshly. "All this time?! That's the problem?!" I growled.

"Yeah," admitted Pollen. "I was gonna tell you how to transform after you figured it out, but I got impatient and I'm really hungry."

I glared at the Kwami. I growled, anger swelling in my chest. "I don't have any food!" I spat.

Pollen shrugged casually. "Oh, well."

"Aren't you hungry? Do you not care that you're fed?"

"Kwami hunger is different than human hunger," she said. "You humans die if you don't have enough food, but kwamis just don't have their full energy or power capacity. It doesn't hurt or anything, it's just kinda annoying."

I shot a dirty glare at the oversized insect. I grabbed Sabrina's bag on the other side of the table and began looking through it.

Pollen flew towards me, "What are you doing?!" it demanded.

"Looking for food."

"Stealing food," she scoffed.

"Sabrina's my friend," I said. "She won't mind."

"Mhm."

I found her small lunchbox and pulled it out, quickly pulling the zipper to open it. Inside of the bag was one lonely Ziploc bag of goldfish. I grabbed it, quickly stuffing the lunchbox back into her bag.

"Is this good?" I asked in a mocking voice, holding it up for the Kwami and waving it around.

"I prefer pineapples," said Pollen, "but goldfish are pretty good."

I sneered, throwing the Ziploc bag at the Kwami who opened it and hungrily opened it before shoving goldfish in her small mouth. Pollen crunched down on her snack and I cringed as each crunch was louder than I would've preferred. I sat back down in my seat, waiting impatiently for Pollen to finish and for Sabrina to come back.

I sighed in annoyance, checking my phone for notifications.

The full impact of what was happening hit me. My eyes widened as I realized as soon as Pollen stopped eating, I would be able to transform! Jumping across rooftops and fighting Akumas side-by-side with Ladybug, with Chat Noir as my sidekick!

I would make my first introduction as Queen Bee, heroine of Paris!

But I would need a plan. I can't just wing it like a certain blond cat boy. I need to be able to take down my first Akuma on my own to show my competence, but I'm not willing to sit around and wait for a weaker Akuma to show its face. Fighting a stronger one was out of the question, I could break a nail!

But how could I know exactly when a weak Akuma shows its face?

 _Create one_ , whispered the dark, traitorous voice in my head.

My heart skipped a beat. _No! If Ladybug finds out, my best friend will hate me! I can't!_

Giving people constructive criticism and then they get upset and become an Akuma is different! They get butthurt! It's their fault for surrendering to HawkMoth! It's not like they have to get so upset! I'm just helping them!

But purposely creating an Akuma… It's _voluntarily_ letting a _terrorist_ prey on civilians!- Which is probably something Ew-inette does for a living- but I'm not Pastry Peasant! I would never do something against Ladybug!

 _Is it though?_ I thought, chewing on my lip.

The more Akumas she fights, the more popular she becomes. Besides, she'll just have to sit back and relax as I defeat this Akuma. She won't even have to reverse things back to normal.

And it's not like he's an incredibly dangerous or smart madman. He uses the same plan over and over again and he Akumatizes people over ridiculous things. How is making an Akuma from a man who was upset over a bunch of pigeons a good idea in any universe?

Yeah, what a _terrifying_ supervillain.

And the victims never remember being Akumas so it's not like it matters. Plus, Ladybug always reverses the effects and damages, but I'll defeat the Akuma so quickly, she won't need to fix any damage.

But I would have to do it as Queen Bee because Pollen would try to stop me if I were a civilian.

"'hew are a 'ew 'hings you nee' to 'ow," said the kwami through a mouthful of goldfish, the crackers crunching loudly in her mouth, as she held the now empty Ziploc bag.

I sneered, crossing my arms, tapping my foot impatiently on the floor. "It'd be nice if you quickly swallowed!"

Pollen rolled her eyes, "'o you wan' me to 'hoke?"

"You said you were immortal!" I hissed, my annoyance beginning to increase.

"'S uncom-" the bee paused, swallowing the last of the goldfish, "-it's uncomfortable." it said.

I rolled my eyes. There seemed to be(e) a lot of eye rolling in our conversations.

"So-" began Pollen, but I cut her off.

"-Yes, _yes_!" I blurt, "I know the rules! Use your special power and you have five minutes till you detransform!"

The Kwami gave me an odd look, "How do you know that?" it demanded.

I sneered, crossing my arms over my chest. "Everyone knows it," I stated, "Ladybug and Chat Noir don't really try too hard to hide it."

"'Chat Noir'?" repeated Pollen, squinting. "Oh," she said in realization. "Black Cat," she translated the name. The kwami buzzed a bit louder, "Tikki and Plagg are awake?"

"Who?"

"Ah, never mind," said Pollen.

I scowled, I was tempted to demand answers, but continuing another argument would take longer to transform.

"Are there any other Miraculouses activated?"

I glanced at the kwami. "Aren't you supposed to know this stuff?" I demanded, glaring at her.

"I told you," sang Pollen flatly. "I've been asleep for how a while."

"How long?" I demanded, my impatience growing. Suddenly, I realized I had never once questioned how the Miraculous came into my hands. "Where did you come from?"

"Certainly not the same place babies come from," said Pollen, shrugging non-chantly.

I snarled in frustration. "Not what I mean," I spat. "I mean, who gave the Comb to me?"

Pollen shrugged, "Does it matter?"

I was fully prepared to strangle the kwami by now.

I gritted my teeth, snarling impatiently. "What's my special power and how do I activate it?"

"Say 'Buzz On!'," answered Pollen flatly without emotion, "and congrats, you get wings."

"Wow," I said, crossing my arms over my chest, "that's lame."

The bee grinned at me with a smile without laughter, "Sorry that you don't have a more powerful Miraculous." Her 'apology' held no sorrow or empathy.

"Isn't the Bee Comb powerful?" I blurted, demanding a little louder than I probably should've.

"Obviously," remarked Pollen, annoyance pricking in her voice. "It's just nothing compared to the Luck and Misfortune Miraculouses."

I rolled my eyes, pressing my hand to the side of my head, and I had to restrain myself from digging my nails in my cheeks in frustration. "Can you tell me how to transform now?"

"Do you really wanna transform in the library?"

I growled, glaring at the kwami. I grabbed my purse, throwing it on my shoulder, and Pollen quickly flew inside as I moved as fast as I could in heels without falling over.

I rounded the corner, passing walking students who were going back forth from clubs, and a few teachers, until I found myself at the back of the school once more.

Pollen flew out of my purse, titling her head at me as she told me the transformation words: "Transformez-moi."

There was silence for a second.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" I exploded, rage burning in my veins, and my vision was threatening to see red.

I was furious.

"ALL THIS TIME, IT WAS JUST FUCKING 'TRANSFORMEZ- MOI'?!"

I didn't realize what I said until it was happening.

Like a vacuum sucked her up, Pollen zipped into the Miraculous, disappearing as a large flash of yellow light engulfed me. The light receded like a wave, drawing back the light and revealing my costume.

I gawked down at my hands which were now covered by black finger-less gloves, but I suspected touching stuff wouldn't leave any fingerprints.

I looked down, grinning in excitement.

Where my previous clothes had been, a layer of comfortable, flexible clothing that was like a second layer replaced it. The main color of the suit was a bright yellow, but it was followed by numerous black stripes all over my body, there was a trompo hooked to my waist by a thin black line, and my purse was gone.

Giddiness soared in me. I dragged my fingers over my face, feeling the odd fabric on my face in the shape of a mask.

I really wish I hadn't left my phone in my purse so I could take a selfie.

I turned around, facing the back of the school. My stomach fluttered and shifted and swirled like it housed a million butterflies. My fingers trembled as I grabbed my trompo and without really thinking, I flung it at the roof, and it wrapped securely around a post similar to Ladybug's yoyo.

I frowned. Why was nothing happening?

I gently tugged and then I was shooting forward, flying upwards, dragged by the trompo. I screamed in alarm, stumbling as I landed on the roof, and the trompo unraveled itself and was suddenly back in my hand.

I stumbled, my head throbbing miserably, and the nervousness building in my stomach, but the adrenaline was rushing through my veins and head.

I paused, leaning against a post, trying to catch my breath. I closed my eyes, my breathing ragged and quick. I inhaled, trembling slightly.

My name is Chloe Bourgeois, I thought, hoping my inner monologue would calm my nerves. I am the daughter of Andre Bourgeois- and I am Queen Bee, soon-to-be heroine of Paris and the world! I am Ladybug's best friend and I am loved by everyone, no matter what Marinette Dupain-Cheng says.

With a deep inhale and exhale, I opened my eyes. Super speed, strength and agility aiding me to hop across the roof. I perched on the top of the library, waiting for someone vulnerable enough to fulfill my plan with.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mireille Caquet typing on her phone, not looking where she was going, as she walked back towards the library.

She must've gone to the bathroom.

I smirked, leaping off of the roof and landing on the sidewalk in Mireille's path. I wobbled a bit, trying to catch my balance.

Mireille had yet to notice me and she was walking straight towards me.

Rolling my eyes, I held out my hand, pushing her backwards as she got to close.

She lurched backwards, fumbling to catch her phone as she nearly dropped it. She gaped at me in shock, her mouth hanging open like a goldfish.

I snickered, the ends of my lips curling into a deeper smirk. " _What_?" I grinned maliciously, "Did a bee sting your tongue?" I grinned.

Mireille's eyes widened further, she stepped back shakily. "A-ar-are yo-you an Ak-k-kum-ma?"

I lowered my eyelashes, grinning. _No, but you will be._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {I think Archive hates me because every time I tired to upload a chapter,something went wrong. When I originally posted this it wasjust a bunch of random letters?????
> 
> Ugh, here's the rest of the old A/N. :
> 
> dEaR gOd, I can't write. I really hope this wasn't too OOC? Last chapter, Chloe snapped badly and it shows. This chapter is taking place on the same day (in case anyone is confused), it's just a few hours after Chloe explodes.
> 
> AND STUFF BE GETTIN' REAL. I know Chloe purposely Akumatizing people is common in her redemption arcs, but none of them do what I plan to do with it ;)  
> *evil laughter*. Yeah, so I noticed Aurore and Mireille go to College Francoise Dupont (?) and I thought. "Haha, hey, HawkMoth hasn't been an idiot yet and Akumatized Mireille over someone with darker problems that could make a powerful Akuma because that would be getting too real."
> 
> I wrote this instead of sleeping. You're welcome. I'll upload this in the morning if I remember.
> 
> Thank you for the comments, reads, hits, and kudos!
> 
> -Book117Worm  
> Ellie}

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir. Chloe's mother is my OC, therefor, I own all rights to her.


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